


Post-Meeting Stress

by rodymus



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Master/Pet, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Other, Pet Play, Petplay, Xeno, Xenophilia, cumflation, valveplug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3981856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rodymus/pseuds/rodymus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knockout needs to blow off some steam, and his human pet is the obvious choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post-Meeting Stress

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally only my second attempt at fic writing, be gentle with me

It’s another busy day full of meetings aboard the Nemesis, and you sit attentively on Knockout’s lap as Megatron reviews battle plans on the holoprojector. You didn’t listen, since none of it concerns you. Your only concern was being obedient and quiet. Your Master simply enjoyed bringing you everywhere to show off how well you behaved and how beautiful you are. 

Knockout absentmindedly rubs your back, his eyes focused on the projection, and you feel yourself relax, eyes drooping shut. His chassis is warm and you find yourself nodding off when suddenly you are scooped up into his servos as he raises himself from his seat at the long metallic table.

“The meeting is done, my dear,” he sighs. “I’m rather exhausted..” You nod sleepily in agreement. You are too.

Knockout bids farewell to the rest of the bots and made his way through the winding halls of the nemesis, until reaching his quarters. The door slid open with a swish, and the familiar sight of your Masters quarters immediately puts you at ease. You weren’t overly fond of the other bots, especially the skinny one that always glared at you with disgust. You much preferred to stay in your cushion at the foot of your Master’s bed, warm and safe and loved.

Knockout sets you down, leaving you to your own devices, and heads to the kitchen. Your ears perk up when you hear a glass cling. Paying it no heed, you collapse into your cushion and curl into a ball. 

Knockout returns with a glass of highgrade in one servo, and a bowl in the other. “You must be hungry, pet.” He gently sets the bowl down by your cushion, and a glance tells you it’s full of your pet food. You ignore it. The food resembles dog food, like back on earth, but Knockout had specially ordered it to cater to your human needs. It tasted decent enough and gave you the nutrients necessary to be healthy, but you weren’t terribly hungry at the moment.

Knockout sits on his berth, taking a swig from his glass.

“Ah,” he says, “Just what I needed. I always need a glass of this after dealing with that buffoon starscream.” 

Knockout leans over and gives your back a pet. You lean into the touch, stretching animalistically. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asks, frowning at the still-full bowl of kibble. You ignore the question and continue dozing. “Pet,” he says sternly. “Eat.” You open an eye and you tense, his tone giving away his irritation, but you do not move.

You yelp as he grabs you by the collar, lifting you up onto his lap.

“I do try my best to provide for you, my pet,” he strokes the side of your face. “But you disregard my generosity. Is this the thanks I get?” His voice darkens and you tense in fear. He finishes his highgrade, setting the glass on the bedside table. “Perhaps it’s just the post meeting stress, but you’ve gone and made me angry. That simply wont do.”

Without warning he turns and places you onto the berth beneath him, his servo pinning you in place. He adjusts his position so that he is now kneeling over you, his servos pinning your arms above your head. Knockout runs his smooth glossa all over your bare skin, licking every inch of your body. He inhales deeply, taking in your scent.

“If you won’t eat what I offer, then I’ll find an alternative, and perhaps you’ll learn your lesson.”

He reaches into his subspace and withdraws a satchel, containing small pink candies. He removes one and holds it to your mouth. You frown. 

“Are you going to disobey me?” He sighs. “Eat this.” You purse your lips and turn your head, afraid of what he was going to do next, but before you have time to react he plunges a finger into your mouth, shoving the candy down your throat. You gag and sob, but it didn’t taste bad. It was sweet and melted nicely in your throat. You compose yourself, and feel your body warming up with pleasure. Your head tilts and you look expectantly at the bag of treats.

“Good pet,” he croons, and withdraws another candy, smiling evilly. He holds it to your lips and you accept it, suckling on his fingers a moment before enjoying the treat. He chuckles. “So eager!”

The “treat” you realize, in a matter of seconds, was an aphrodisiac. It immediately took effect and you gasped as you felt the space between your thighs stir. You clench your legs together and look at Knockout in horror as you realize what he’s done. 

“How do you feel, love?” He kisses your forehead and you want to be mad at him, but soon your mind is a haze of need and want and you’re so wet, you NEED relief. You whine and keen and spread your legs, lifting your hips up, begging to be touched. It’s almost unbearable.

Knockout smiles and chuckles again, kissing your stomach. “I find those treats to be helpful for teaching naughty pets a lesson in obedience.” Your legs are already soaked, and your body is buzzing and you’re dizzy with need.

“Patience, my dear,” Knockout leans down again and nips at your neck, gently at first, then harder. You moan and feel a trickle of blood drip down your neck, which he promptly licks. He licks and bites and licks and bites your entire body, until you are covered in dentae markings, your skin tingling in pain and pleasure. Your privates are throbbing and slick with lubricant, ignored by your Master.

He finally lowers himself between your thighs and licks, agonizingly slow, at your sweet spot. “You are Mine,” he growls, bringing his servo to rub you. You whimper, struggling to push yourself closer to those lovely, amazing fingers. “You’re so needy,” he muses. “It’s so cute.” After what feels like eons, two tender fingers begin working in between your legs and you keen. 

“Always so wet,” he muses, his fingers entering you. You gasp and whine, clenching your teeth and trembling. Your entire body shakes as he crooks his fingers, the warm sensation of orgasm rocking through you. You gasp and collapse, panting. 

“That was fast,” he purrs. “We haven’t even begun!”

You hear a click and you realize his spike is out, fully erect and already dripping. You pant, out of breath and instinctively spread your legs wider. He growls with approval and slowly enters you, stretching you wide and filling you completely with his spike. You cry out, sobbing from the unexpected rush of pleasure. 

He ruts, slow and precise, his voice a low growl. “Mine,” he rumbles again. “You are mine.” You feel the second wave come over you, and you clutch at the berth, gasping and moaning. Knockout continues, dangerously close to overload, his breath getting heavy, and he growls as he finally cums inside you, filling you to the brim with his transfluid. 

You’re both panting and shaking, the aftershocks of the overload rippling through you. “Stay.” he growls, feeling you squirm. “Do not move.” You feel uncomfortably full, your belly bulging and round from his fluids and his massive spike. You whine quietly and he shushes you with a finger. He smiles as he runs his fingers through your hair, his spike still deep inside you. Your entire body is buzzing with pleasure and it clouds your brain and you can’t think of anything you want more than to stay like this, forever. 

You cry out in sorrow as Knockout pulls out, and an obscene amount of transfluid drips from between your legs, but you’re still bulging and full. It feels nice and you don’t even care that you’re a complete, dripping mess of a human. You just want more. More. You keen and pant, exhausted and horny.

“What a mess,” he smiles, looking down at your limp, panting form with loving optics. You’re covered in bite marks and transfluid. Your breath hitches and you hiccup, as he lowers his helm between your thighs and licks up the fluids with his glossa. You squirm, loving every moment of it, thankful that he takes his time, but when he pulls away it’s too soon, too soon and you sob for him to continue.

He shifts and lifts you into his arms, cradling you against his chestplates. You’re trembling and hiccuping and a mess, when you finally feel the aphrodisiac wear off. You feel relieved as the fire between your legs is finally extinguished. You should be ashamed, but that felt absolutely amazing. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” He says. “And then get some food in you.” He gently prods at your belly, and it makes a heavy sloshing sound. You hiccup, bleary-eyed and satisfied as he carries you to the washroom.


End file.
